Judge — February 20, 1915 — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

| Bi S is a lack of perseverance on the part of the hair. Man is born in adversity, grows up in trouble, survives colic, teething, admiring neighbors and safety pins in his infancy, en- dures education and football, bears up under matrimony, is afflicted by politics, big business, train wrecks, collar buttons, twins, tooth- ache, lunch-counter pie, November, Christmas, rheumatism, after- dinner oratory and bills. Yet at seventy he is hale and hearty, while his hair, which loafed out on the job two years late and has had nothing to do but enjoy a free ride through life, has become discouraged and has silently withdrawn years before. Sticktoitivene a great virtue in all cases, but never more so than in the case of hair. When a man has hung on in this severe and exhausting life for seventy years, accompanied by his faithful and unterrified hair, he is justified in speaking of the lat- ter in terms of the warmest admiration, even if it is tomato-colored. When a man's hair quits the job, his smooth and well-polished dome of intelligence rises more or less grandly above the ruins, thus enabling the public to discuss his cranial architecture. Noth- ing is more impressive than a broad and massive intellect case sweeping grandly backward from the eyes to the rear collar button. John Quincy Adams was twice as imposing with his flushed and defiant two-acre forehead as he would have been with a crop of sorrel hair, worn pompadour. Our own William J. Bryan's forehead, rising mag- nificently into the zenith like the white summit of Chimborazo, is eloquent even when his throat is temporarily closed for repairs. But sometimes the hair retreats from a head which is knobby in the wrong place and is no more impressive undraped than an ostrich egg, little end up. In this case a man may be pardoned for speaking bitterly of his late hair and cursing its chicken-heartedness in re- treating in mid-battle. Baldness is treated lightly by those who have copper-fastened hair, clinched on the inside, and the baldheaded man has to endure a great many jokes from the public. He also has to accept un- limited sympathy from his barber. It is hard to tell which is the more painful. Elijah was the only baldheaded man who ever got even with his scoffers. If a baldheaded man ever becomes dicta- tor of the world, he will find it difficult to refrain from locking up bears, hu- morists and barbers in the same cage. ness is not painful and is even ornamental when the hair retreats in an orderly manner from the front, instead of sneaking out from behind a derby hat. However, the hair should be unanimous when it leaves. It is hard to admire thirty-six faithful hairs carefully parted in the middle of an oasis of forehead. Women very seldom become bald. Th presumably because they wear long hair and brush it for one hour and three-quarters each day. Any man may save his hair by treating it in this way. But outside of Buffalo Bill, who wears his long for revenue only, man has inflexibly chosen the lesser evil. True to His Profession Physician—I'm sorry, sir, but we can't quite be sure as to what is wrong with your arterial system unless we put you under the X-ray machine. Publisher—That's all right. I never made any secret of my cir- culation. Dealing in Futures “I've named you as my literary executor."’ “Why, you've never been able to sell any of your writings!"" “I know; but posthumous works are always in demand.”” Several thousand cures for baldness have been invented, but only one relief iseffective. This is resignation. Bald- BEACH Cynthia—These bathing suits make people look shorter, don't they? Tom—And people look longer, too! AT PALM